All the World Ablaze
by Bastetmoon
Summary: She was born in the east, a spark cast off the flame of destruction. All dark, with hair like ash and eyes that burned with the hate of decades. A warrior queen to destroy the world of men. To a watery grave they lead her, were she might sleep until all the world was healed of her wrongs. But nothing stays buried forever.
1. Introduction

**Hey everyone! I know the last thing I need is to start another story but I love LOTR so much and I just had to write a story about it. This is NOT I repeat NOT another Mary Sue story god knows there's enough of those out there as is. Anyways this is set throughout the Hobbit and LOTR and it sticks pretty close to the original plot. It is a Legolas romance but it follows my OC more than him. Anywho read and enjoy. If you like it leave a review ****!**

A tall elf stood upon the stern of a gracefully built ship. The pennants snapped in the wind. That filled the sails. His eyes were fixed on the distant shore. Gulls shrieked a sound that had first drawn him now harsh and dissonant. He cursed the wind that tore him from the land, filling the sails and propelling the ship onwards. For behind lay everything, land, home, and a love.

She still stood on the shore, nothing more than a faint grey smudge even to his elven eyes. He could just imagine her long hair tossed by the sea breeze. She would wait, until she could no longer see the ship. He wondered what then she would do, return to the water where she had slept for so long? Slink back to the darkness from which she was born?

She had no one, nothing left. It would have been better, he thought, if she had never woken. He still remembered that last fateful conversation.

_"You must go. It is your fate, your time. It would be wrong for me to keep you here."_

_ "No," He had argued, "I can stay a little longer with you."_

_ "Legolas you know as well as I that you must do this." She had caressed his face, meeting his light eyes with her dark ones._

_ "You could come with me."_

_ She shook her head sadly, "N'uma", No, then softly, "Amin mela lle."_

The rough tromp of heavy boots broke his concentration, and the words fade from his mind. It was Gimli. Legolas suddenly felt very grateful for the dwarves company; no doubt it would lessen the torment of this voyage.

"What are you looking for Legolas. You've been standing as stiff and silent as one of Durrin's statues since we left." Then he lowered his voice, "Is is because of her?"

He simply nodded.

"If leaving her torments you why didn't you just bring her with you?"

"I could not. She could not." She would never have been allowed to touch the soil of the undying lands.

"Well she was pretty one all right. Although her eyes always scared me."

Legolas smiled, remembering the first time he had seen her eyes. "She wasn't always that way."

"No?"

"No." he agreed, "She used to be named Ithilrë."

"I thought her name was Morwen?"

"Yes but that was long ago." He sighed and looked back at the shore, now no more than a black smudge.

"What happened?"

Legolas looked at the dwarf, "War happened."


	2. The Awakening

**Ok so here is the first chapter! This story really starts during The Hobbit when Bilbo and the dwarves are traveling through Mirkwood forest. In fact during the first chapter the elves capture them but you only here vague references to it. Anyways hope you guys enjoy it.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except for Morwen  
**

**Chapter 1 The Awakening: **

The prince of Mirkwood knelt among the fallen leaves, scanning the ground with a practiced eye. His two companions stood nervously nearby.

"Remind us again what we are looking for Legolas." Said the female warrior sweeping a loose strand of hair from her face, "We should be at the feast with the king, your father."

"There will always be feasts." He turned, "There is something dark in the forest Tauriel. I can feel it." She sniffed disapprovingly but said no more.

It was his other companion, a tall elf with a grim expression who spoke. "We should go back. We are too near Dol Guldur." Even as he said the name the air seemed to grow heavier, the trees creaked and groaned. "What is more," he continued, "We are close to her."

Tauriel laughed, "Don't be ridiculous Arandur! She has slept for thousands of years! We have no reason to think she might wake now."

Arandur shrugged, "I have heard stories."

"Stories? What stories?"

"Shhh," Legolas hissed, "Both of you." Indeed he was becoming aggravated by their bickering. Not only was it annoying but loud also. Any creature would hear them coming, and he had reason to believe that whatever they were hunting was no mere beast. There had been a growing shadow in the woods of late. Of course Mirkwood was infested with giant spiders and other dark creatures, but this was something more. It wasn't even the Necromancer. The shadow that had fallen on Legolas's heart was different, less terrible, and stranger.

So he had begged leave of his father, King Thranduil to find whatever it was. They had set out even as the other elves were planning a celebration feast. Tauriel and Arandur had agreed (although hesitantly in Arandur's case) to accompany him. This was good because he would need them both. No one, not even himself was more skilled than Tauriel with a bow, and Arandur knew all the forest paths well.

Now they were in the very heart of the forest, were the trees grew crooked and black, and all sunlight was blotted out by the immense bows.

The companions traveled in silence for several tense minutes. It grew darker, though whether from the trees or from night they did not know. The air was thick and humid and echoed with the calls of many strange creatures. Unfriendly eyes watched them from the shadows, waiting.

Then far ahead Legolas saw a light between the trees. He glanced back at Taureil and they exchanged a nervous glace. Arandur stiffened.

"We should turn back," He whispered.

"Our path leads this way. Do you fear the dead?" Legolas asked mildly.

"No but they say she is not dead, that she is asleep and when she wakes all the forests on this fair earth will burn under her power."

"And if that is true what reason would she have to wake now? Come we will go this way."

They set off in the direction of the glow. Suddenly the trees opened up in a small clearing. It was indeed night and stars sparkled in the dark sky. Between the twisted roots was a pool of dark water. This was the source of the glow that they had seen from a distance. Its surface was glassy and smooth, and something deep within it shone with light.

"This isn't right." Legolas whispered.

"Then let's leave!" Tauriel exclaimed.

"No." Legolas didn't know why but he felt strangely drawn to the pool. "I want to see her."

"Are you insane?!" He ignored Tauriel and stepped forward.

The face staring back at him could not really be described as beautiful, for it both beautiful and terrible. The woman at the bottom of the pool was pale like snow with hair black as pit. She was dressed in a simple grey gown but there was a helm wrought of black metal on her head and a sword of the same material lay next to her.

"Morwen." It was a story ever elf knew. Before they days of the last alliance, when Sauron's power was growing there was an elf named Ithirë. Her hair was like gold and her eyes blue like the ocean. But she was proud, desiring to be a queen. She went to the dark lord Sauron and swore herself to him if only he would make her a queen of men. He changed her until she became something dark, until her name was no longer Ithilrë: the moon, but Morwen: dark.

She was too dangerous, too powerful. So the great elf lords had put her to sleep, until all the world might be healed of her wrongs.

"Legolas!" Tauriel cried and only then did he realize that he had stepped to the very edge of the pool. He looked down at the face again. He though he saw a flicker of movement.

"Lets go." He jumped Tauriel was right next to him.

He shook his head to clear the daze. "You're right." He turned; Arandur was still at the edge of the clearing shifting nervously from foot to foot. "Let's leave."

Then Tauriel screamed. Legolas had his bow faster than the blink of an eye. Arandur drew his sword. Tauriel was on her stomach near the pool frantically trying to avoid being pulled in by the pale hand that had hold of her ankle.

Together he and Arandur pulled her away. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine." She gasped then gestured at the pool, "But we won't be for very much longer."

The girl in the pool was now struggling to pull herself out. The water had made her look beautiful and healthy, but without the illusion she looked like a different person entirely. Her body was thin and emaciated, her cheeks sunken and hollow, and her eyes, which were black as a starless night, were those of a rabid animal. She threw herself at them. She was stronger than Legolas would have guessed, given her state, but it still three against one, hardly a fair fight. Arandur managed to knock her sword aside and it fell to the ground with a heavy thump. Even disarmed she continued to fight using her nails and teeth.

"Stop!" Legolas voice rang out clear. His bow was in hand, an arrow pointed strait at her heart, "If you move I will shoot."

She released her hold on Arandur's arm and smiled, showing even white teeth. "You would seek to kill me, Legolas son of Thranduil?" She purred, "Too bad, you could have learned so much from me." Legolas lowered his bow slightly, her words were enchanting, mesmerizing.

"Don't listen to her!" Tauriel warned.

"Too late." She hissed and lunged forward. There was a twang and a feathered arrow protruded from her shoulder. Tauriel had shot her. She shrieked but it was useless. Arandur threw his weight on her, flattening her to the ground.

"Bind her hands. She will go to my father." Legolas said, "And Tauriel can you remove the arrow and dress the wound. We can't have her dying out here."

They bound her hands, not cruelly but tight enough to prevent escape. The arrow was removed and her shoulder bound with cloth.

The fire had gone from her eyes and she now sat limp and mute. There was something else that lingered in those eyes, something other than evil. Legolas did not know what it was but it almost made him pity her.

The road back was long. On the way there they had run but now they were constrained to a walk. None of them wished to carry her and Morwen would not run. Instead she walked before Tauriel, hand tied behind her, with an arrow aimed at her back.

No one spoke untill they were close to the caverns of Mirkwood wherein the elfin court dwelled. An elf on a pale grey horse galloped up.

"Prince Legolas! Tauriel! Arandur!" He cried, "You missed the feast. Although it was rudely interrupted by a band of dwarves who we now have locked up." He noticed Morwen for the first time and his expression grew serious, "I see you have found her then. Come I will take you to the king."

Thranduil sat upon his throne. They all knelt, except Morwen who remained standing defiantly.

"Father, we found her while hunting in the woods," Legolas looked up, "She is Morwen, the sleeper, and servant of the dark lord."

The elf king leaned forward, "I wondered when we might see you again Morwen, or should I call you Ithilrë?"

Morwen herself, who had been standing like a statue up until that point flinched, "I do not answer to that name." Her voice, which beside the pool had been warm and inviting, was now cold as ice.

"And yet that is who you are. Why did you wake _Morwen_? What doom brought you back to our world?"

She remained silent only glaring up at him.

"Very well lock her up until she is willing to speak." With that guards seized her dragging her, they had to for she again began to struggle, through the door that lead to the dungeons.


	3. Memories

**Hey everyone! So here's chapter 3! Thank you so much to Mightyisis, Ortholiene, and superkiran for your wonderful reviews, and to those of you who have followed or favorite my story! Let's see how well Morwen deals with captivity shall we?**

Chapter 2: Memories

Morwen sat on the low cot in her prison cell. Her shoulder ached terribly from where the she-elf had shot her. The elves had wanted to clean and dress the wound but when they tried she had clawed at their arms and faces. They left her alone after that. But as far as she was concerned that was for the better, she knew better than to trust them after all they had done to her.

They had also left food and new clothes, but she refused to touch them. Even in her famished state she would eat nothing given to her by elves. As for the clothes, although her dress was tattered and dirty it was all she had that was truly hers. They had, of course, taken her helm and sword. Besides the fabric of her dress was black, her color.

There was little to do. At first she had tried to escape, hurling herself at the walls and door, she'd even tried magic but nothing had worked. So she had slunk back into the confines of her mind were she might find some way to break free. For she had to escape, she felt the once so familiar itch of power nearby. It was the one, made by her master in the land of Mordor. When she had first woken, disorientated as she had been, she had not sensed it. But now she could feel it nearby. It was the one that had woken her from her dreams of drowning. Now it was hers to find.

There was a clatter outside the door, and Morwen turned her dark eyes to the little window in the door where light came streaming in. They were just changing the guard, as they did ever hour or so. There were two outside her door at all times of day and night. She turned back to staring at the opposite wall, but not before she caught a flicker of movement. Turning back she saw it was the Elf Prince who had captured her. He was familiar; he had come several times in the days since she had been confined. He always stayed on the other side of the door, however. _Wise of him,_ She thought,_ I would kill him as soon as the door was open._ The thought of him lying on the ground, his blonde hair streaked through with blood made her smile.

Still there was something disquieting about being watched constantly. Such was the intensity of his gaze that she could not meet his eyes.

When again gone she fantasized over his death, how she might kill him. It was the least she could do, he was, after all the one who had captured her.

Legolas himself, as he watched Morwen stare at the wall of her prison wondered what she thought about. I was as if her eyes were tracing patterns in the stone that only she could see. He wondered briefly if she was insane, beside the pool she had clearly acted as such. Now she appeared lost within herself. Then he remembered when she had spoken to him after awakening, and then later to his father. Her voice was not that of a mad girl.

She turned slowly as if just realizing he was there. She had grown even more wild and unkempt looking- if that was possible- than the last time had seen her. Her dark hair fell in a tangled mess around her shoulders and she was as thin as a wraith. Legolas saw a small plate of food lying untouched on the floor and wondered why she wasn't eating. Her eyes met his, deadened and hollow. Her brows furrowed, then so quickly he might have imagined it, a slight smile played across her lips.

It was unnerving. Like with those big black eyes had looked into his soul, and know knew all his fears and weaknesses. He could imagine her laughing, a high cold sound, as she traced lines of blood along his skin with a knife. He shook himself wondering where such a horrible idea could have come from.

Morwen had turned away and again stared at things only she could see.

"What are doing Legolas?"

He whipped around at hand on the knife at his belt. It was Tauriel, "Tauriel?"

"Yes of course."

"Why are you here?"

She rolled her eyes, "Legolas I'm captain of the guard. I was going to go check on the dwarf prisoners. Why? What are you doing here?"

Legolas gestured to the cell behind him, "I wanted to come see her."

"Why? She is evil."

He shook his head, "I don't know."

"Well she will be fine. We won't let her escape." She grabbed his arm and steered him away, "Come on. It isn't safe to be around her so long."

As they walked away Legolas thought about when she had looked at him. Her eyes had been filled with contempt and darkness but there was something tragic too. He almost felt bad for her.

Morwen lay stretched on her back, gazing up at the stone ceiling far above. Her mind had wandered back to her meeting with the Elf King. He had called her Ithilrë, and for a moment she had felt something, an old presence that she had for so long tried to block out.

_A golden haired she-elf stood in a glade. Birds were singing joyously. There was someone else there too, a tall dark haired elf with grey eyes. _

_ "Ithilrë," He smiled as though he name upon his lips was better than a thousand songs, "You are so beautiful my beloved."_

_ She turned gazing at him lovingly with eyes the color of deep water. "I know Beriadan, you should know you are so lucky. I have a hundred suitors at my door, but you my love are the only one I want." She reached forward to touch his face, "My love." The last words had a hard edge to them, but Beriadan was so entranced that he did not notice as she slipped the knife from her sleeve._

_ She stabbed him, straight through the heart._

_ "I-Ithilrë," He choked before the light died in his eyes and he fell limp to the ground. She knelt and retrieved the dagger. _

_Her hands were stained with his blood, and there was a mad fire in her eyes, "I am not __**your **__beloved. I do not belong to anyone. I will be a queen." The last words came as a cry._

_Then the world turned dark, and Ithilrë howled in agony._

When Morwen again became aware of her surroundings she was still in her cell. The guards were still outside. Everything was quiet. But on the inside Morwen was screaming as pain like needles drove into her mind. She dug her nails into her palms until blood was streaming down her hands. Tears welled in her eyes.

She would kill the Elf King. This was his fault, reminding her of what she had been, who she had been. She would not let _her_ back in.

Staring down at the crimson blood on her palms she was struck by an idea. Dipping one pale finger into the pool of blood she traced the first glyph on the wall.

**Thanks for reading. Did you like it? Leave a review and let me know!**


	4. Blood and Shadows

**Hello. I was recently inspired to take up writing this story again. I hope this chapter is well done.**

**-Bastetmoon**

Chapter 3: Blood and Shadows

Morwen gazed appreciatively around the little stone room. Lines of dark red were scratched across the walls, forming rows and rows of glyphs. The letters were elvish , but the words were the black speech. They spoke of nightfall and death; shadows that walked under the light of the full moon. Blood Magic.

It had not been easy, hiding her work from the keen eyed elves. It had been slow work; anything visible had to be erased before anyone came to check on her. Therefore she spent much of the time drawing and redrawing the same symbols. But now it was finally finished. Morwen examined her palms. They were marred with many small grooves, the marks of her nails pressed into the soft skin. Some still bleed freely while others were crusted over with scabs. They would scar horribly she imagined but it was a small price to pay for her freedom. Still it would not do if they were to become infected. Changed as she was she was still vulnerable to ailments of the flesh. Reaching out she tore a strip free from the old blanket on her cot. She paused, making sure the guards hadn't heard. No doubt they would recognize her bid for freedom and she would be denied her only chance. The rough strip of fabric rubbed painfully against the raw flesh of her palm. She gritted her teeth as she bound the other hand.

There was the vague sound of footsteps coming down the hall. _Was it the guards?_ It was too soon for them to be changing watch. She would have to act quickly then. She picked herself up and stood in the center of the room and began to chant in a whisper. The blood on the walls, most of it still fresh seemed to gleam. The hairs on the back of Morwen's neck stood on end. This was old, dark magic. Morwen herself had never used it before, only learning its properties. She had worried that such a spell was beyond her, but now she was rewarded for her patience. She lived with one foot always in the shadow world, but to go beyond that was more difficult. For that was the nature of the spell, to turn muscle and blood, bone and flesh to dark shadows, and like shadows when she pressed her body against the wall she melted through it.

The spell would not last and Morwen knew she must pass the guards before it did. However the spell did not make her invisible, only allowed her to blend with the darkness. She pressed against the wall. The elves stood still next to the door.

_Poor little Morwen, you were always too weak to save yourself. _Morwen hissed in surprise as the voice reverberated through her mind. One of the guards no doubt drawn by the noise turned and glared suspiciously at the spot where she stood._ You were weak without me._ The voice crooned, _You lost everything._

Morwen's heart pounded as the elf stepped forward reaching for his sword. _Let me back in and the world will bow down to you. That's what you want._ The guard was getting closer. _You will have to choose Morwen. You cannot keep me out forever. You need me. _The guard crumpled, lifeless and behind him his companion also slumped to the ground. Morwen whipped around looking for the attacker. _I was always the source of your power. _

She started to run. _You cannot deny who you are… Ithilrë_. And then she was on fire. Morwen collapsed to the ground, unable to think, unable to breathe. Her vision blurred and narrowed as pain like hot iron tore through her body. _You need me._ The horrible words repeated over and over again.

Morwen knew not how long she lay there. Vaguely she was aware of someone shouting and then a pair of strong arms lifting her from the floor.

However when she finally came to she was alone. The room was unfamiliar, not her old cell with its wooden bed but a bare room of grey stone. It was cold, so cold her breath rose in a fog before her. Then she noticed the cool metal cuffs around her wrists. Tight, though not cruelly so, they were wrought in a light silver metal. She strained against them but the metal- mithril she thought- held and would not be broken.

.0.

Legolas and Tauriel stood outside the smooth stone cell. Through the tiny slot Morwen could be seen, bound by chains to the stone walls.

"She killed some of our best guards." Said Legolas in wonder, "Not even a mark on their bodies."

Tauriel frowned, " Legends say she used the darkest of magic's to accomplish her will."

Legolas turned to her in surprise, "You think she use Blood Magic?"

"Legolas the door and lock of her cell were both unharmed, as though she passed through the very walls. And you know what they found when they unlocked the door?" Legolas shook his head, for he had been practicing archery when word of her escape had reached him. "Every inch of the walls was covered in scripts of dark power. The words were written in her own blood. I don't anything else that it could be."

.0.

She could feel when the power of the One began to slip away. Slowly at first, then faster and faster, as though born away on a river. Water. It tormented her, slipping into her thoughts, choking her mind. Now the bearer of the One was gone too, carried away by the very water that seemed to laugh at her.

_This would not have happened. _The voice whispered, _If you had just given me control like you used to. Together we could have slain them all, and taken the one ring back to the hand of the master._

Morwen could not move, bound to the wall as she was. So unable to run, she screamed. Screamed and screamed, as the all the visions of what had once been burned through her mind like wild fire_,_ and the voice in her mind laughed.


End file.
